


Fragility

by eerian_sadow



Series: Flesh and Steel challenge responses [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Community: flesh_and_steel, Friendship, Gen, Natural Disaster, earthquake, trapped underground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 00:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earthquakes are one of nature's great equalizers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragility

**Author's Note:**

> for the [](http://flesh-and-steel.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://flesh-and-steel.livejournal.com/)**flesh_and_steel** august 2011 Grab Bag Challenge, theme “natural disaster”.
> 
> i had this plotted out (with input from [](http://wicked3659.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://wicked3659.livejournal.com/)**wicked3659** ) long before today, and certainly before the recent earthquakes on the US east coast and in Peru. it just didn't get finished before now due to some false starts and a couple of migraines.

[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/eerian_sadow/pic/000tqfgt/)

_  
**Tuesday, morning** _

_Prowl smiled faintly as he watched Chip Chase move around the dining hall and interact with the other humans who had come to the conference. The young human practically glowed with happiness as he spoke with so many like-minded individuals. For the first time that the tactician could remember, Chip was free of the subtle tenseness that always settled in during large social gatherings and it warmed his spark._

_He had thought that coming out here for this conference would be a burden, no matter how much Chip learned, and he was grateful to be proven wrong. The other scientists hadn’t even reacted to the young man’s wheelchair bound state, except to match their walking pace to his rolling one when they moved. It was refreshing that these humans cared far more for the mind than for the “abnormality” of Chip’s paraplegia._

_Prowl watched in silence and simply enjoyed the sight of his friend being happy._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Thursday, morning**

Chip coughed, trying to breathe through the dust filling Prowl’s passenger compartment. He ached from when the tactician grabbed him, but nothing was broken and he didn’t have any injuries aside from some bruising; Prowl hadn’t had time to be his usual, careful self when the building started coming down.

“Prowl?” The human’s throat was scratchy and raw, and speaking caused him to go into another coughing fit.

The Autobot answered him with a groan and a pained shudder.

“Don’t move, Prowl.” Chip rested his hands on the steering wheel, trying to be comforting even though he was far from comfortable with their current situation. “It looks like we’re trapped under a lot of debris.”

Prowl shuddered again. “Are… you… injured?”

The human frowned. He didn’t like the way Prowl sounded, and those shudders weren’t reassuring either. “I’m okay. Just some bruises. What about you?”

“I… am… fine.” The mech’s response lagged and was full of static.

“Don’t lie, Prowl. I can tell there’s something wrong.”

"It's... nothing..." Prowl's speech continued to lag. "Can't... repair... without... tools."

Chip sighed. He had brought some tools with him, but they had been in the bag on his chair--which was buried somewhere in the rubble now. "At least tell me what's wrong. Even if I can't help, I’ll feel better just knowing."

There was a long silence, and Chip wasn't sure if that meant that Prowl was having trouble processing his thoughts or that he had fallen offline. Finally, after several tense minutes, the tactician spoke again. "Doorwings... crushed. Pain... sensors... causing... processor... over... load. Too... much... extraneous... data."

In the wake of that statement, Chip realized that the doors of Prowl’s alternate mode weren’t closed. Next to him, the driver’s side door was a crumpled mess. The passenger side door had been ripped completely off its hinges and he couldn’t actually see what was left of it aside from some trailing wires. From what he knew about Prowl’s frame type, that sort of damage was far more debilitating than anything else he could have suffered.

And Prowl had gotten it coming back to save him.

Chip frowned. “Prowl, what can I do to help?”

“Stay… safe…” The tactician gave another of those pained shudders and fell silent.

“Prowl…” Chip did his best not to cry.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Tuesday, morning** _

_The first panel of the day was roughly half over when the tremor shook the room. It might have passed unnoticed, if it hadn’t caused pens and pencils to roll off of tables and onto the floor. Prowl frowned and waited, a bit tense, to see if anything else would follow._

_The head of the science team hosting the convention chuckled lightly. “No worries, everyone. The tremors are completely normal, and our architecture was designed to withstand long-term exposure to them easily. We’re in no danger at all.”_

_The tactician continued to frown at the older man’s words. He knew that Beachcomber would argue that point, if he were here. Tremors might be normal for an area, but that did not automatically make them safe._

_He tuned his sensors a bit more tightly and dedicated a percentage of his processing power to monitoring any change in the local environment. Then he made note of Chip’s location and turned back to the lecture. The resident scientist might be right and the tremor might be nothing, but it always paid to be prepared for anything._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Thursday, late afternoon**

Chip had no idea how long they had been buried in the remains of the convention center, but it was long enough that he was starting to get hungry. Prowl was still offline, though thankfully he still seemed to be alive--at least Chip thought he was still alive. The tactician hadn’t even so much had twitched after falling offline earlier and the human was more than a little worried. He had no idea how to help his friend.

The Autobot’s interior lighting had flickered out sometime earlier, leaving him in total darkness. It was frightening--possibly more than the earthquake had been. Chip kept wondering if every creak and groan of the rubble meant that the debris was going to crush them or if they were simply going to starve to death in their pocket of air.

Panic would probably be setting in, if he wasn’t so tired and sore already.

The scientist rested his forehead against the steering wheel, feeling defeated. “I wish I knew what to do Prowl. I don’t have any idea how to get us out of here.”

Prowl didn’t reply and Chip sighed. Around them, the rubble creaked as it settled a bit.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Tuesday, afternoon** _

_Prowl’s finely tuned sensors detected three more tremors before lunch, though none of the humans seemed to notice them. He also noticed that few of the scientists who were visiting the area were as relaxed as the acted. The tremor--tremors, if he was being fully accurate--had unnerved more than one of them, Chip Chase included._

_The young human rolled up to him during the lunch break. “Prowl, what do you think about that tremor? Doctor Cox thinks that it’s possible that the faults in this region are more active than Doctor Marcus gives them credit for.”_

_“I think,” The tactician replied carefully, “That I have lived inside a volcano for too long to believe that small earthquake like the one this morning is nothing to worry about.”_

_Chip looked thoughtful at that. “Do you think we’re in any danger? I know that I asked you to come all this way with me, but we can go if you don’t think it’s safe.”_

_“I can’t compute a probability of a major quake without more data. I simply don‘t have enough of a background in geology for an informed decision.” Prowl looked down and gave his friend a smile. “And I wouldn’t want to ruin your vacation by being overly paranoid. If things get worse, we’ll discuss going home then.”_

_“Well, if you’re sure.” The human looked a bit doubtful. “Maybe we should see if Beachcomber would be willing to come out and monitor things for us. He’d probably like that, and I know Doctor Cox would enjoy meeting him.”_

_“That’s not a bad idea, Chip.” Prowl smiled again. “I’ll call the base and see if he and Skyfire are free.”_

_“Great.” Chip relaxed a bit at the tactician’s words._

_The fact that both of them would feel more comfortable with an advanced geologist on-site went unsaid._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Thursday, late night**

Chip was brought out of a fitful sleep by a groan and another of those pained shudders. For a long moment, he couldn’t remember where he was or why he was asleep sitting up. Then Prowl groaned again and he snapped upright.

“Don’t try to move, Prowl. We’re still trapped.”

“Chip?” The tactician’s voice was clearer now than it had been earlier. “What is your status?”

“Sore,” the human replied. “And hungry. And I probably should have tried to crawl out so I could go to the bathroom, but I can’t see anything.”

Prowl’s interior lights flickered back on, though not as brightly as normal. It was still enough to blind Chip for a few moments, though.

“Take care of your personal needs, Chip,” the Autobot said. “Not doing so will do more harm than good.”

“Right.” Once his vision cleared, the young man looked for any kind of hand hold that he could use to pull himself out of Prowl’s passenger compartment. All he saw close enough to use was the tactician’s mangled door. “Prowl, I can’t get out without touching your door.”

“Do what you have to.”

Chip nodded and reached for the door. Prowl made a pained noise as he touched it, but said nothing and held as still as he had been while he was unconscious. The human hissed as his efforts pulled already sore muscles in his sides and arms, but he kept going.

“Have any of the Autobots contacted you?” Prowl asked after Chip was clear of his passenger compartment and had moved his grip from the door to some of the rubble.

“I don’t know,” the human replied, panting a bit. “My phone was with my chair.”

“I see.” The tactician sounded more than a little disappointed. “We could be here for some time then. My comm system is out and I’m not sure my homing beacon is functional.”

“Well, Beachcomber was on his way,” Chip said optimistically. “So it shouldn’t be too long.”

“I hope,” Prowl replied softly.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Tuesday, late night** _

_Beachcomber had been ecstatic to receive an invitation to come and monitor the seismic activity first had, as Prowl had known he would be. However, he wouldn’t be able to get away from the Ark for twelve hours, as Skyfire was sealed in the lab with several volatile chemicals. It was the best the geologist could do for them, and the tactician was grateful despite his fears that Beachcomber would arrive too late to do any good._

_There had been five more tremors, two of which had been strong enough to be noticed by the humans, and he was growing more concerned as each one occurred. Such seismic activity seemed very abnormal. Many of the humans were also voicing concerns, though quietly enough that the local science team didn’t hear._

_Chip had begun staying much closer to him, for his own protection and both their peace of mind._

_“If things aren’t better tomorrow,” the young man said quietly, “I think we should play it safe and go home. I’m enjoying the conference, but it’s not worth us getting hurt or worse.”_

_“If that’s what you want to do.” Inwardly, Prowl was relieved by the request. He would much rather cut their time off short than put his more easily damaged friend in danger._

_“It is.”_

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Friday, early morning**

Prowl had turned his interior lights back off to conserve energy, but he didn’t drop back into stasis like he had before. That relieved Chip to no end, as being alone in the dark had been as terrifying as being trapped in the ruins of the convention center was. They didn’t talk much--the human’s throat still felt raw from the dust he had inhaled and the Autobot had to conserve all the power he could--but just knowing that the mech was still there and still alive was a great help.

Now he just had to deal with hunger pains and thirst. Unlike Bumblebee, Prowl wasn’t in the habit of carrying around snacks for his human friends “just in case” and there hadn’t been time to eat more than a few bites of food before the quake. And he’d had no liquids at all since a cup of coffee between two of the panels.

“Prowl?”

“Yes, Chip?”

“Can you tell if anything’s changed?” The human clung to the steering wheel, seeking any kind of comfort he could get.

The tactician made a sound that was very much like a disappointed sigh. “I’m sorry, no. I had to take my entire sensor suite offline because of my doorwings.”

“Oh. I guess that’s why you’re processing so much better now?” Chip wasn’t sure if that was a good trade or not, since he didn’t know how much pain his friend was still in.

“Yes.” Prowl fell silent for a long moment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better news.”

“It’s okay. At least you’re still here.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Wednesday, early morning** _

_Prowl stayed online through the night, sitting just outside Chip’s hotel room window and monitoring the seismic activity. There wasn’t a dramatic increase, but there was no decrease either. He truly hoped that, when he arrived in the morning, Beachcomber would tell them that it really as nothing and that they had overreacted. But, as he had told Chip, he had lived inside Mount Saint Hillary for too long to truly believe that._

_After Chip woke and he escorted him to the convention center for breakfast, Prowl turned the majority of his processor to making plans for protecting his friend in case of an actual earthquake._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Friday, morning**

“Prowl?”

“Yes, Chip?”

“I’m scared.”

“I know.” Prowl paused for a moment. “I am too.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Wednesday, morning** _

_The day’s first panel was punctuated by a tremor that was stronger than all the previous day’s. It shook the tables enough to spill coffee and knock more than one notepad to the floor. Doctor Marcus brushed it off, the way he had before, and the conference went on with a distinctly uneasy air._

_Prowl placed a discreet call to the hotel and asked them to send someone to Chip’s room to pack his belongings. He knew his friend would be asking to leave as soon as the panel was over._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Friday, morning**

Chip had fallen asleep again, partly from actual tiredness and partly to stave off how hungry and thirsty he was getting, but he woke abruptly when Prowl’s engine roared and the vehicle rocked front to back several times.

“Prowl, what are you doing?” His voice was more than a little panicked.

“I have to get you out of here.” Prowl’s voice was firm with conviction. “The longer we stay trapped, the more danger you’re in.”

The tactician’s engine roared again, and Chip could hear the crunch of tires trying to find purchase on the rubble. He could also hear some ominous creaking, that sounded a lot like metal tearing.

“Prowl _stop_! You’re just going to hurt yourself even more!”

Prowl did stop, though his engine didn’t cycle down far. “I am repairable, Chip. You are not. I won’t allow my inaction to endanger you.”

“And how does it help me, if you make your damage worse and knock yourself offline again? You’re all I’ve got, Prowl.”

The Autobot made a pained sound, but his engine cycled down into a quieter idle. “Forgive me.”

Chip hugged himself against the steering wheel in response.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

_  
**Wednesday, late morning** _

_Prowl was walking—carefully—with the group of scientists accompanying Chip to the second panel of the day. His human friend had been quite insistent on attending this last panel, as it focused on his own preferred field of study, but Prowl had his reservations. Chip’s geologist friend had also expressed discomfort with the situation, but he was also staying._

_The tactician was beginning to think that all these scientists were simply mad._

_It was a relief when his comm signaled an incoming call. //This is Prowl.//_

_//Prowl, this is Beachcomber. Skyfire and I are inbound and close enough that we’ve got you on scanners, but it think it’s a good idea if you evacuate the humans now. That area’s a hot bed of seismic activity and something **big** is going to be coming, soon.//_

_//How soon?//_

_//Can’t say with any certainty. But I wouldn’t want the humans in the same state as that fault if I could help it.//_

_//Understood.// The tactician made a sound that was a passable imitation of Sparkplug clearing his throat to get the attention of the humans he was traveling with._

_And the world began to shake itself apart._

_Prowl began to run, trying to shield the humans and get them away from potential falling hazards. He had taken several steps before he heard Chip call out to him and realized that he had outpaced his friend completely. He turned around, emotional protocols overriding protective programming. The hall still hadn’t stopped shaking as he started back toward the young man and he realized, with no small amount of horror, that the ceiling was coming down._

_He leapt toward Chip and grabbed him as the first of the ceiling tiles came down onto his back. With a hiss of pain, he transformed around his friend to protect him. More of the ceiling came down before he was completely folded into his alternate form and he felt his right doorwing wrench out of place. Then the world went black._

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Friday, afternoon**

According to Prowl’s chronometer, they had been buried under the remains of the convention center for thirty six hours. Chip wasn’t sure if it had really been that long or if it had been longer. His time sense was completely non-functional in the dark.

His hearing was still good though, and he was starting to hear sounds that had nothing at all to do with settling of debris in the building. “Prowl, do you hear that?”

“I do.” The tactician quieted his engine. “It sounds like heavy machinery, perhaps a crane.”

“Do you think that means they found us?” Chip didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s possible. I can hear voices, too.”

“Maybe if we make some noise, it’ll help. Give them a better idea of where to dig.” The human clutched the steering wheel in excitement and hope.

“That idea has some merit.” Prowl honked his horn, a sound that was deafening in the enclosed space but could be the key to being rescued sooner rather than later.

The sounds from above stopped.

“I think it worked!” Chip covered his ears in preparation this time. “Do it again, Prowl!”

Prowl did. Moments later, the sounds resumed, much closer to their actual location. They waited for further results in hopeful silence.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

When sunlight broke through the debris and fell on Prowl’s hood, Chip wanted to cheer. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything quite so beautiful in all his life. The sunlight was followed moments later by Beachcomber on a heavy-duty tow line.

He gave Chip a relieved smile through Prowl’s windshield. “Next time, I swear I’ll call with my warning sooner.”

The human shook his head. “No way. Next time I make sure the conference is nowhere near a fault this active.”

“Agreed,” Prowl said.

“Right.” Beachcomber carefully lowered his feet to the tactician’s hood. “Sorry, Prowl. Ratchet wants me to pull Chip up right now, so we can make sure he’s not too damaged.”

“Please do,” Prowl replied, sounding as relieved and happy as Chip felt.  



End file.
